


the sweater

by kyouyaed



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Christmas fic, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Red Harvest deliberately sucks at gift giving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9062386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyouyaed/pseuds/kyouyaed
Summary: “I've been Best Gift Giver for ten years. I don't think you'll be able to best me.” Red wraps his arm around Sam's middle and gives him a tiny smirk.“If you say so,” is all Red says, cryptic and amused all at once.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY CHRISTMAS?! HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
> 
> super shout out to Erin but actually this is like 600% dedicated to them! they helped me brainstorm and figure out this whole fic and they supported me through working on it!!!! thank u Erin <3
> 
> pls enjoy this cutie christmas fic, though i imagine it takes place on Christmas Eve. this is unedited. i will edit when i can.

“Sam's here!”

Joshua's voice rings through the apartment, and Sam gives him an amused smile as he steps in. The door clicks shut behind him and Sam stomps the snow off of his boots before he kicks them off, setting them next to the other pairs of shoes not on a shoe rack. He brushes the snow off of his shoulders and shakes the snow off the big plastic bag of presents he has in hand.

“Happy Christmas, Joshua,” Sam says, huffing a laugh when Joshua pulls him in for a warm, one-armed hug and a quick pat on the back.

“Happy Christmas, Sam,” Joshua says as he pulls away. He slings his arm around Sam's shoulder and leads him out of the apartment entry way and into the kitchen/living room. Sam inhales the smells and glances over the spread on the table. Goodnight went all out, as usual, because that man can't not go wild for the holidays. The ham's smell is mouthwatering and Sam almost lets out a pathetic whine when Joshua steers him right past the kitchen table and into the living room, crowded with five other people.

Sam grins and slips out from Joshua's grip, moving to the Christmas tree tucked in the corner of the room. Again, Goody went all out.

“Did you buy new lights this year?” Sam asks as he unpacks the six gifts in his bag, tucking them under the tree as best he can. He balls up the bag and sets it off to the side so he can reuse it to haul his gifts home later.

“Well,” Billy answers, and Sam stands to face the evening's hosts that are cuddled up on one of the couches together. “We wanted a more... festive atmosphere.”

Sam smiles and leans into the one-armed hug Vasquez gives. “It's always festive here, Billy,” Sam assures. “Hey, Vasquez. Happy Christmas.”

Vasquez pulls away from the hug with a solid shoulder clap. “Happy Christmas. Hope you got me something good this year,” he teases.

Before Sam can defend himself, another voice chimes in, “Sam is arguably the best gift giver of all of us.” Sam's heart swells at the voice and he shoots a grin over his shoulder at Red Harvest, stepping away from Vasquez to give his defender a tight hug. “You might be defeated this year, though.”

Sam leans back to stare at Red Harvest, and he laughs. “Alright, alright,” Sam says playfully, pulling away from the hug. He leaves his arm around Red's shoulder, though, and smirks. “I've been Best Gift Giver for ten years. I _don't_ think you'll be able to best me.” Red wraps his arm around Sam's middle and gives him a tiny smirk.

“If you say so,” is all Red says, cryptic and amused all at once. He squeezes Sam's waist and Sam leans into him, pretending his heart isn't going a mile a minute, standing so casually and close to Red like this. “I will dethrone you, though.”

“Mhm,” Sam hums. “If you say it enough, it might come true.”

“If you stop flirting,” Joshua snaps, “we can open presents and actually see if Sam is gonna be whipped by Red!” Goody cackles in response to Joshua's words, and Sam fixes Joshua with a blank stare that does nothing to deter that shit eating grin Joshua is sporting. When Joshua and Goody keep laughing, Sam sighs and runs a hand through his short hair.

“I need a drink before we do presents,” Sam declares. “Especially if I'm dealing with you both.” He looks pointedly between Goody and Joshua and pulls away from Red, ignoring how a part of him protests the loss of heat and the loss of contact. “No,” Sam says as he passes both Joshua and Goody. “Get your own drinks.”

The wine glasses hang above the small kitchen window, and Sam admires the view of the city skyline glistening through the thick snowfall as he carefully slides a wine glass out of the hook it hangs from. Normally Sam isn't one for wine, but Billy always manages to find the best holiday wine in the city and he can't resist a glass of it. Sam sips at his full glass and shakes his head in wonder as he moves back into the living room. Billy does it again.

“Good wine?” Billy asks. Sam nods and comes to a stop beside Red again.

“As always,” Sam praises, taking another sip from his glass. “A pity I'm driving. I wouldn't mind a whole bottle.” He's partially joking, because he wouldn't ever drink a whole bottle of any wine by himself, but Billy's tastes are incredible.

Billy smirks and Goody says, “Take the bottle if there's anything left in it tonight.”

Sam snorts softly. “It would freeze instantly in my car,” he says. “The snow is coming down heavy. I'm glad I found a parking space in the garage. I do not want to imagine dusting off my car in that.” He shudders at the imagined dusting and takes another sip of his wine to soothe his imaginary fears.

“If you wore a coat,” Red Harvest offers, “it would be much less frightening.”

Instantly, Sam retorts, “I don't need a coat.” He doesn't look away from Red Harvest, but he can feel the other five in the room staring at him. They always do, because they think it's odd that Sam can function without a coat. He doesn't need a coat. His preferred wardrobe is plenty warm, and a coat would just be silly. He sighs and, after another sip of wine, says, “Wasn't there talk of presents?”

As he hoped, Joshua jumps at the tree and drops to his knees, reaching for the nearest present. “Jack!” he shouts unnecessarily, and he shoves it toward Jack who scoops it up and settles back into the couch to wait for his other presents. “Billy!”

“Stop yelling,” Red snaps, and Sam raises his eyebrows, tracking Red with his eyes as he squeezes between Sam and the tree. Joshua pays him no mind and continues shouting out names and passing off presents, and Red grabs a present wrapped in blue paper with Santa hats decorating it. Sam moves so Red can claim his spot again and he fixes Red with a curious look.

“Is this one of the presents that will supposedly usurp me?” Sam teases. Red merely nods and pushes it into his free hand, taking Sam's wine so that he can actually open it. “Really?” Sam wonders, a small smile settling on his face.

To the annoyance of the other six, Sam likes to open his gifts on the tape lines. It's less mess, and it's just easier. He's never been one to just tear into his gifts, not like Joshua or Goody, and he can feel Red's gaze boring a hole into his head as he takes his time. Whatever it is is soft and supple and … Brown? Sam blinks at the peek of cloth as he gets the present open. The wrapping slips off easily and Sam is left holding a sweater. Three-fourths of it are a light brown and the top fourth of it is pretty black. The material is soft, not itchy like most sweaters Sam has encountered, and Sam can't help the splitting grin that spreads across his face.

“Really?” he repeats, somewhat breathless as he looks up at Red Harvest. When their eyes meet, Red seems to relax and a small smile plays about his lips. “You knitted me a sweater.” Sam looks down at the sweater and he has to fight the urge to rub it against his face. “Red,” he says, because he doesn't know what else to say. He was right, though. Red Harvest has officially claimed the title of Best Gift Giver of the year. Sam feels inadequate now. His present for Red isn't nearly as incredible. Then again, what can top a homemade gift with him exclusively in mind? He rubs his thumb over the soft cloth in his hands.

“Do you... You do like it, right?” Red asks, and Sam can only nod, looking back at the sweater. It looks big enough to wear over his simple button down, and Sam is quick to slip it on. The collar is a turtle neck, and Sam's heart swells and his face warms at the clear thought and effort Red put into the sweater.

“Say somethin', Sammy!” Goody shouts, and Sam slumps his shoulders. He had somehow managed to forget about the other five the second he set his eyes on the sweater, but it's probably for the best that Goody reminded him of their presence. “He knitted you a sweater!”

Huffing a laugh, Sam nods. “He did.” Sam smooths his hands down his chest, taking in the feel of the sweater yet again, and he looks down to admire the colors in the low lighting of the living room. “He did,” Sam repeats, this time more to himself. “Thank you, Red,” he murmurs, dragging his gaze from the sweater up to meet Red's. At his words, Red's face lights up and he simply nods in reply. “You... Definitely win Best Gift Giver of the year.”

Goody laughs, and Vasquez says, “Seriously? You don't have anything magical up your sleeve, Chisolm?” Sam chuckles at the disbelief in Vasquez's voice. “You _always_ have something!”

Sam's smile turns sheepish and he shakes his head. “I...” He runs the bottom of the sweater through his fingers and looks at Red Harvest, not knowing what to say.

“Hey!” Joshua exclaims. “He didn't knit me a sweater!” Sam blinks and looks at the man on the floor, disguising a laugh as a cough at the sight of Joshua Faraday holding a snowman cocoa mug with cocoa mix in it. It's one of those generic gifts that every store has in the Christmas aisle, the kind you don't buy for friends you've known for years. “What the hell, Red!” Joshua glares up at Red Harvest and Sam can't help the swell in his chest. Red knitted _him_ a sweater, but no one else.

Sam remembers when Red Harvest first admitted to knitting. He said in no uncertain terms that he had only learned to knit to appease his grandmother and he only knitted for her. (Red had then proceeded to step on Joshua's toes when Joshua pressed and prodded and tried to convince Red to make him something anyway.) Sam glances at Red who is shaking his head at Joshua who is still muttering about him not getting a sweater.

“My gift to you is hardly as amazing,” Sam says quietly, and Red looks up at him curiously. Sam tugs one of his sweater sleeves over his hand so he can rub the soft material with his thumb.

“I will be the judge of that,” Red Harvest says, and he offers Sam's wine to him. Sam pushes his hand to the side and frowns. Red Harvest frowns back and sets the wine down in the window sill.

“You'll love it,” he says firmly. “I know that without a doubt. But it does not measure up to this.” He gestures with his covered hand to himself and he huffs. “I might have a last minute gift that _will_ measure up, though...” By now, Joshua has stopped whining about the sweater and Sam knows that everyone is watching them. He can't back down now, though. His heart is pounding and he can feel it in his throat, his face is so warm it's a wonder no one else can feel it, and his stomach is twisting in nervous knots. Sam takes a sharp breath through his nose, taking in the smell of the house, the ham, potatoes, warm bread, the fresh pine and a muskier scent that has to be incense or cologne, and Sam takes a small step forward.

He presses his sweater-covered hand to Red Harvest's face and leans in, pressing a firm kiss to his mouth. Sam pulls away quickly, though, when Goody lets out a piercing wolf-whistle and Joshua whoops. Sam sends them both halfhearted glares but he's quickly distracted by Red Harvest grabbing his chin and pulling him in for another kiss that is only met with more whistles and whooping, as well as Vasquez telling them to knock it off.

“He didn't knit me a sweater either,” Billy chimes, and Sam is quick to break away from Red Harvest to look out at the other six. Billy is holding another throw away gift, a barbecue sauce kit, and he looks thoroughly unimpressed with it. “I hate barbecue.” Sam stifles a laugh and Vasquez crouches down to grab a gift. He tears it open and tosses the paper at Joshua, glaring at the revealed collection of miniature jam jars.

"What is this, Red?” he demands with a small shake of the box. “You get Sam something incredible, but not for the rest of us?” Vasquez gestures between the rest of them, and sighs an annoyed sigh when Jack says,

“He bought me cookie mix. I love to bake.” Stifling his laughter is becoming increasingly hard for Sam, his fist pressed against his mouth and his eyes crinkling at the look on Vasquez's face.

“Goody?” Billy asks, and the rest of them turn expectantly to one of their evening's hosts who blinks innocently at them. When he doesn't respond, Billy explains exasperatedly, “Your gift. From Red Harvest. What is it?”

Goody nods then and says in a loud, bitter tone, “ _Not_ a damn sweater!” He plucks something from between his thigh and the couch and holds it out to the rest of them with a pout. “Do you think I smell bad, Red? That it?” Sam can't hold in his laughter at the sight of the deodorant and he has to brace himself with a hand on Red Harvest's shoulder to stay stable as laughter rushes through him, shaking him.

“No,” Red Harvest deadpans. When he doesn't explain, Goody withdraws the deodorant and stares down at it, pout still in place.

“Can't believe,” Joshua says into the silence, “you make a sweater for your boyfriend, but not for the rest of us!”

Without batting a lash, Red Harvest wraps an arm around Sam despite him still laughing and he says, “None of you are my boyfriend. You don't get sweaters.” Joshua nods to himself and then rushes to his feet, approaching Sam and Red with a determined glare.

“Kiss me,” Joshua demands, putting one hand on Sam's shoulder and one hand on Red's. “I'll be your boyfriend, too. I want a fucking sweater, Red.” Sam takes a deep breath to pull himself together and he looks at Joshua who strokes his thumb along Sam's shoulder. “Jesus this is so soft. Red Harvest. Kiss me.”

Sam shakes his head and pats Joshua's hand resting on Red's shoulder, a smile still pulling at his lips. “Not today, Josh,” he says, and he gives Joshua's hand a squeeze and slides it off of Red Harvest. “Stop stroking my shoulder, please.”

“ _Por favor_ ,” Vasquez spits sarcastically, glaring down at his jam. “ _Guero_ , by all means, keep hitting on others in front of me.”

Joshua whirls around and says, “ _You_ sure as hell ain't makin' me a sweater! Shut the hell up and let me try and get in on _this_.” He emphasizes the sweater by stroking Sam's shoulder with all of his fingers on one hand.

“Stop,” Red says, smacking Joshua's wrist. He pulls away from Sam and firmly claps his hands on Joshua's shoulders, shoving him toward his jam holding boyfriend. “Don't touch him again. Unnecessary.”

“It ain't _him_ ,” protests Joshua, catching himself on Vasquez's forearms. “It's the sweater.”

Red Harvest shakes his head and steps back, sliding his arm around Sam's waist again. “Don't,” Red scolds, and Sam laughs again when Joshua mutters under his breath and gives Red a glare. Sam wraps his arm around Red's shoulder and leans into him with a smile on his face and soft chuckles spilling from his lips.

“I seem to recall,” Sam says after a few moments, his chuckles under control, “more presents needing opened.” He gestures to the small piles that Joshua sorted earlier and huffs a laugh when Joshua perks up and launches himself at his pile he'd left by the Christmas tree.

“Sam!” he shouts when he tears through the wrapping paper on his gift. Joshua points at Red and then gestures the dvd collection Sam bought for him. “ _This_ is a good gift! Why the fuck do I need a snowman mug, Red?”

Red shrugs and says simply, “Drink cocoa, watch your movies.” Joshua clicks his tongue and throws the wrapping paper from his dvds at Red.

“Fuck off,” Joshua says with no heat, and Red Harvest smirks and turns his head away, brushing his nose against Sam's cheek. Sam leans into him and watches as Joshua tears into his next present, Vasquez rips open his, Horne takes his time on his selected present, and Billy helps Goody open his present before starting on his own. Red kisses his cheek and Sam grins, turning to press a kiss to Red's lips while the others are distracted. Red hums and brings up his other arm, his hand pressing against the back of Sam's neck to bring them closer together. Sam settles his free hand on Red's waist and he smiles against Red's mouth.

“Happy Christmas,” Sam murmurs. “... Boyfriend.”

Red chuckles and breaks their kiss to press his forehead against Sam's. “Boyfriend indeed,” he agrees, and then he sighs. “Do not throw things at me, Joshua.”

Joshua lets out an exaggerated groan. “If y'all would quit _kissing_ and open your damn presents instead, I wouldn't _have_ to, now would I!”

“You never have to,” Red says dryly, but he pulls away and squeezes Sam's hand before he drops down to pull his pile of presents toward him. “Better have gotten me something good, Joshua,” Red snaps, plucking the bright red bag decorated with Santas out.

“You didn't even get me somethin' good!” Joshua shouts, and Sam takes a step back to avoid being caught in the inevitable wrapping paper throwing that's going to happen. “Why should I have gotten you anything! You're the worst!”

Sam snorts when all Red Harvest says is, “You better have gotten me something good.”

Joshua is quick to throw trash at Red, and Red throws it right back at him with a glare, and Sam hides a grin behind his hand at their antics. They throw trash at each other for a while, arguing instead of opening presents, but finally they settle down and go back to opening presents.

“Sammy?” Goody asks, and Sam looks up curiously. “Ain't you gonna open your presents too?”

Sam shrugs and drops to his knees, reaching for a present. “Happy Christmas,” he says, lifting it to everyone in lieu of his wine sitting on the window sill.

“Happy Christmas!” Goody chimes back, and the other five follow suit.


End file.
